


Perchance

by PhantomWriter



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Episode: s10e07 Girls Girls Girls, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:47:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23323423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhantomWriter/pseuds/PhantomWriter
Summary: While Dean is about to get laid by some girl he met through a dating app, Sam is going to catch some sleep back in the motel instead.Or at least what he thinks he'll be doing. Until this redhaired woman speaks.
Relationships: Rowena MacLeod/Sam Winchester
Comments: 4
Kudos: 23





	Perchance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [weebutwicked](https://archiveofourown.org/users/weebutwicked/gifts).



> AU for Episode 7 of Season 10
> 
> Enjoy!

Sam sighed, warily eyeing Dean and… Shaylene waltz out of the place.

He shook his head and thought he should’ve seen this coming a mile away because it was Dean he was talking about here.

Sam supposed it would be just him in the motel, and he might as well catch up with some sleep. Typical solo afternoon off.

He approached the bar, hailing the bartender for an afternoon cap if you would. It wasn’t long when the bartender slid to him his drink. To Sam’s confusion, however, there was a piece of paper attached to it.

It said Raul’s Girls.

Sam frowned and turned to the bartender. The bartender merely shrugged and said, “Don’t look at me. Some guy giving out flyers around this joint and talked to the management.”

“Right,” Sam muttered, fiddling with the card. What was he even supposed to do with this?

“If I may?”

Startled, Sam turned to his left and found a woman looking at him. She smiled charmingly and glanced down on the card on his hand. “Sorry?” he asked eloquently.

She found his reaction rather amusing, flicking a curl of her red hair past her shoulder. Sam pretended that his attention wasn’t caught by the gesture. “I said if I can have that card instead?”

Sam couldn’t place the accent but found it, er, interesting. “Uh, sure. Sure.” He handed it to her, his hand accidentally brushing against her dainty fingers and—okay, not good timing, Sam.

She plucked it, quickly reading the card before a delicate snort escaped her. “Catchy name,” she commented; hardly sounded positive.

“Common for strip clubs, I think,” Sam said absently. He mentally cursed—he hoped she didn’t misinterpret him.

She giggled. “So you know your strip clubs,” she said with a slight grin. “And I thought you look like someone who’s never been to this kind of place. You have this,” she gestured vaguely around him, “good college boy air about you.”

“Really?” Should he be offended? His scoff turned into a huff of a laugh. “That’s a first.”

“A trifle impression,” she replied. Her green cat-like eyes lowered. “Which I hope you’re keen to disprove?” she said demurely.

Oh.

Sam wasn’t completely blind to the suggestion, and, well, if he let himself fumble for a reply, he would just prove her ‘good college boy’ impression of him. It wasn’t uncommon for him to be approached this way either, but it has been so long already.

“Yeah,” he said with a grin which he knew showed his dimples. “I wouldn’t mind.”

Her answer was a small, scented, purple sticky note with neat penmanship. It has a room number from that nearby five-star hotel. Sam hardly noticed her writing it down.

He gotta say, with that accent and her forwardness, she was unequivocally attractive more than her red-fire hair and pretty emerald eyes.

“Try dropping by eight. I’d love to start… acquainting myself with you right this moment, but,” she sighed regretfully, “There’s a matter I have to attend first.”

It wasn’t like Dean would be back early—if he would even return tonight. Sam would just leave a note for him.

She slipped from her seat; she was petite and of average height with her heels. Sam began to have wild ideas when he estimated how tall she was next to him without the heels.

“Wait,” he called before she could leave. “Sorry. I know this is ridiculous, but I never got your name.”

“Only if you give yours first, giant,” she said with an amused lilt.

Sam raised an eyebrow at the nickname. He let it slide fondly. “Sam. Sam Winchester.”

She pursed her red lips into a smile that held the promise of a good evening. “Rowena.”


End file.
